


For here or to go?

by DracoIgnis



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arguing, Banter, Barista Jon Snow, Baristas, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Jonerys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 07:43:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21175862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoIgnis/pseuds/DracoIgnis
Summary: Daenerys always orders complicated drinks, much to barista Jon's dismay. Luckily, he has his own petty ways of getting back at her. A Jonerys AU short story with original artwork.





	For here or to go?

..

“A venti pumpkin spiced latte with five shots of espresso, three pumps of caramel syrup, whipped cream and extra pumpkin topping, please.”

Jon stared at the woman in front of him. Two years as a barista had prepared him for a bit of everything, least of all the weird drink orders people came up with. But he thought he could spot the odd customer by now, and this girl simply didn’t look the part; she was smartly dressed in a brown coat, black jeans, and high leopard heels, her hair was perfectly tied back into a ponytail, and her eyes were earnest. In fact, she looked like the kind of woman who purposely ordered a black americano because ‘splenda is just _ so _ last year’.

As the seconds ticked by, Jon heard himself say: “Excuse me?”

“I needed that yesterday,” she spoke.

“_Excuse me?_” Jon gawked at her rudeness, and she blinked at him blankly.

“Yes, yesterday,” she repeated. For a moment, Jon contemplated what he could say that wouldn’t get him fired, but she spoke before he could: “Hold on, Missi, I think the guy’s asking me something - yes?” She blinked, and suddenly her eyes seemed less blank and more attentive. That’s when Jon noticed the earpiece.

_ AirPods, _ Jon thought bitterly, _ of course. _ “Could you repeat the order again, please?” he asked, his voice pleasant. “I want to be sure I get it right.”

The woman didn’t hesitate but rattled: “A venti, pumpkin spiced latte with five shots of espresso, three pumps of caramel syrup, whipped cream and extra pumpkin topping.” She paused. “Please.”

“Right,” Jon nodded, “that’s what I thought.” He managed not to roll his eyes as he grabbed a plastic cup and held his pen ready: “Name?”

“Daenerys.”

Jon wrote it down. “Your drink will be ready at the end of the station,” he spoke, but as he looked up, she’d already moved on, moaning to someone on the other end of her earpiece:

“Always have to repeat it. _ Always._”

Jon grimaced and restrained himself from drawing something crude on the cup.

* * *

“A venti iced coffee with ten pumps of white mocha, ten pumps of raspberry, whipped cream and caramel drizzle, please.”

_ Here we go again, _ Jon thought. He hadn’t turned around and was still facing the rack of plastic cups, but he already knew who he would find when he did. So he took his time selecting the right size, and he plastered a smile on his lips before he turned to Daenerys. “Excuse me?”

She was scrolling on her phone, her thumb so swift that the hundreds of text messages melted into one long essay before his eyes.

As she didn’t react, he repeated: “Could you repeat that, please?”

She sighed, yet she didn’t look up from her screen as she repeated her order. Before Jon could say anything else, her eyes snapped up to meet his as she added: “The name’s _ Daenerys_, by the way”

Jon quirked his brows slightly. “Got it,” he said, pretending he didn’t remember.

“Daenerys,” she spoke again.

_ Is she daft? _ Jon thought, his pen hesitating on the cup. “Yes, Daenerys,” he spoke.

“Do you need me to spell it?”

“I know how to spell.”

“It’s just that last time you wrote Dehnirus.”

“Did I?” Jon pushed his tongue to his cheek as he gave her a ponderous look. “No.”

She wrinkled her nose. “No?”

“Don’t think that was me. See, I’m new here,” he lied. “First week.”

Daenerys looked him up and down as if contemplating his words, but he could tell doubt in her eyes. She slowly nodded. “Maybe,” she said.

“Drink will be at the end of the station,” Jon said, waving her on. As she walked away, he meticulously spelled out her name: Dainenus.

* * *

“A venti salted caramel frappuccino with two pumps of hazelnut, two pumps of pumpkin sauce, two pumps of maple pecan syrup, whipped cream and mocha drizzle.”

_ No please? _ Jon wanted to say. He was leaning onto the counter, looking at Daenerys. In fact, he’d been watching her from the moment she walked into the shop. Her leopard heels click-clack-click-clack’ed all over the floor, her manicured nails tip-tap-tip-tap’ed all over her screen, and her lips smick-smack-smick-smack’ed around a piece of gum.

Daenerys had taken her usual route past the merchandise to fiddle with a reusable mug before heading on to the coolers, looking at each and every sandwich. Now here she was, paying him no heed as she prepared an email to someone more-important-than-him.

Jon let his fingertips tap across the counter, but he didn’t say anything. Several seconds passed. Then, she automatically repeated:

“A venti salted caramel frappuccino with two pumps of hazelnut, two pumps of pumpkin sauce, two pumps of maple pecan syrup, whipped cream and mocha drizzle.”

“Heard you the first time,” Jon assured her.

Daenerys finally glanced up at him, her lips parting with a pop as she realised it was him. “You,” she said.

“Me,” Jon agreed, feeling smug at the recognition in her eyes.

“You misspelled my name,” she said, “_again._”

“Did I?” Jon asked innocently.

Daenerys wrinkled her nose. “Don’t give me that spiel. It’s just _ rude_.”

“Look, it’s not like I did it on purpose.”

“Is it not? Because I remember offering to spell it for you.”

“I always believed in my own skills, for better or worse,” Jon said, grabbing his pen. “Now, how is it spelled?”

Under her watchful guidance, Jon got her name right. As she sauntered off to the end of the counter, he grabbed the order sticker and placed it right across the logo. _ Now your pics won’t look so pretty, _ he thought with a petty satisfaction.

* * *

“A venti-”

“Was that a grande?”

“-chocolate-”

“Mocha, you said?”

“-frappuccino-”

“Iced tea? Yeah, we do iced tea.”

Jon stared at Daenerys. Daenerys stared at him. Her violet eyes were partly confused, partly annoyed, and he could tell from the way that her lips trembled that she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or shout.

For once, the phone between her hands slowly sunk down as she lowered her hands, taking him in. She didn’t speak, just eyed him from the top of his black curls to the tips of his fingers, tapping away on the counter.

“Come again?” she said.

“It’s a new thing I’m trialling. Being psychic,” Jon said and pointed at his head, “At times, it seems like I just know people’s orders before they even say it.”

Daenerys blinked. “What a rubbish superpower.”

“Well, it could save time.”

“Right now we’ve wasted more time than saved,” she assured him. Still, she cocked her head, a small smile lingering on the sides of her lips as she urged: “Go on, then. What do I want?”

Jon was slightly taken aback. When he first came up with the idea, he thought she would be annoyed. Perhaps even demand to speak to a manager about his attitude. But to have her play along? _ That was not part of the plan. _ Still, he felt himself challenged, so he pushed up the sleeves of his shirt, placed his palms flat onto the counter, and leaned in to look her right in the eyes.

He was so close that he could tell her cheeks going a bit pink under his scrutiny.

“A venti,” he started, and she gave him a curt nod, “chocolate frappuccino.”

“That’s what I said,” she agreed. “Continue.”

_ There’s more? _ Jon thought, then, _ Of course there’s more. _ He thought back on her past orders as he tried to discern a pattern but, finding none, started rambling: “You want a venti chocolate frappuccino with five pumps of roast, four pumps of caramel syrup, three pumps of mocha and-” he paused, his eyes seeking the menu above him as he picked something at random: “Two pumps of toffee nut syrup. And extra whipped cream, of course.”

“Of course,” Daenerys agreed.

Jon waited for a moment, but she still didn’t say anything else. “Well?” he asked.

She quirked her brows. “Well?”

“Well, what do you _ actually _ want?”

“That was it,” Daenerys said.

Jon blinked. _ No way_. But she placed the exact change on the desk and smiled:

“End of the counter?” before she walked off.

Jon ran through the order in his head once more. Then he shivered in disgust.

* * *

“A venti caramel latte with five shots of espresso, four pumps of pumpkin syrup, two pumps of cinnamon dolce, and one pump of mocha,” Jon said the moment Daenerys walked through the door.

She slowly walked past the merchandise, fiddling with the mug, then to the coolers, glancing at the sandwiches, before she stopped before him and sighed: “You’ve lost your touch! That is not my order.”

Leopard heels, short faux fur jacket, black dress, red lips. Jon ran his fingers through his hair, trying to comb the unruly locks as he wondered, _ How does she manage to look so good every day? _ “Aw man,” he shrugged, “guess I lost my powers.”

“Guess so.” She picked at the small packets of biscuits next to the counter. “You also lost your ability to spell.”

“Did I?” Jon asked. This time, he was asking in honest - he could not remember what he wrote on her cup.

Daenerys gave him a sly smile as she pulled out her phone and showed him a picture: there was the infamous frappuccino, and across the sticker with the long order he had written WHY.

Jon flushed: “I don’t remember that.”

“Well, my Instagram loves it, so the joke's on you,” she said and put the phone away. As she started rearranging the biscuits, she asked: “What’s your name?”

“Why, you want to apply here?” Jon spoke as he gestured to her tidying.

Daenerys laughed. “I just hate when things are messy.” Satisfied with the biscuits, she finally looked at him.

“I’m Jon,” Jon said.

“John?” she repeated innocently.

“No, that’s a common mistake,” Jon said with a sigh, “It’s Jon, J-O-N, like- ooh…” He paused as he caught on, and her eyes twinkled naughtily as he gazed into them. _ You got me. That _ is _ annoying. _

“I’ll have a venti caramel latte with five shots of espresso, four pumps of pumpkin syrup, two pumps of cinnamon dolce,” Daenerys said.

As Jon noted it down, he thought, _ That’s what I said! _

“-and _ two,_” she smirked, “pumps of mocha.”

“I _ almost _ got it,” he groaned and slapped his forehead in disbelief.

“Better luck next time, _ Josh,_” Daenerys said, slowly walking her way to the end of the counter whilst chuckling.

* * *

“A grande-” Daenerys started, and Jon blinked at her.

“Hold on,” he said, leaning over the counter. He glanced into her eyes, his own gaze serious, as he said: “Are you feeling okay?”

At this bold move, Daenerys blushed. “What do you mean?” she asked. His face was so close that he could see his own reflection in her eyes, and he saw himself smirk as he said:

“You said _ grande_, right? Not _ venti_? Something’s amiss.”

As his words sunk in, Daenerys rolled her eyes and pushed him away by the shoulder. “Don’t be daft,” she said, but she was smiling through her redness.

“Just trying to subvert my expectations?” he asked, grabbing the right sized cup.

Daenerys shrugged. “Suppose that I am.”

It had been a week since her last visit, and Jon had felt strangely excited when he saw her walk through the door. There was something about their little morning chats that put him in a good mood, and it carried him through the day.

So much so that as he stood with the cup, slowly writing her name across the paper, he didn’t want to hurry her along. Instead, he asked: “How’s your name spelled again?”, earning himself a stuck out tongue.

“You know by now,” Daenerys said and crossed her arms.

_ Yes, I do, _ he thought sadly, spelling it correctly.

“So, Jon,” Daenerys said, her fingers seeking the basket behind her. It was full of bags of coffee beans. She started picking at them at random, holding them up, taking a second look, then putting them back down. “Do you always look so messy, or is that just for me?”

Jon blinked in confusion before he caught sight of himself in the shining metal of the cash register; his hair, unruly as always, his beard, uncombed, his shirt, crinkled, his apron, spotty with coffee. He contemplated for a moment, then replied: “Just for you.”

“Ain’t I a lucky girl.” Daenerys turned back from the basket, eyeing Jon, and, as she smacked her lips and winked, he felt his heartbeat quicken. “Might be I have to put in an effort for you, too.”

“There’s no way,” Jon said before he could stop himself. As she waited patiently, he cleared his throat and gestured at her. “I mean, you’re always so put together. Do you work in fashion or something?” He felt dumb the moment he’d said it, but Daenerys just smiled and shook her head.

“Sadly not,” she said, “and nothing as exciting as this, either.”

_ Surely she’s joking, _ Jon thought as he glanced around the shop. The carpets were worn, the walls needed a few layers of paint, and the machines they used were so old that they groaned like a steam train.

“I’m a secretary,” she explained.

“For someone in fashion.”

She chuckled. “No, but I do feel like I’m in ‘The Devil wears Prada’!”

“Oh?” Jon furrowed his brows. “How so?”

“My boss is the worst. He’s always on my back. _ Do this now. I needed that yesterday. Don’t be late!_” She twisted her lips as she mocked her boss’ voice, and Jon couldn’t help but smile. He hid it behind his hand as he watched her. “He’s a dentist.”

“A dentist!” Jon laughed. “He must _ hate _ how you keep coming here.”

“Oh no,” she spoke, “the drinks are all for him.”

Jon gawked. His brain took a few seconds to process her words. “They’re _ what_?”

“Told you,” Daenerys chirped, “_subverting expectations._”

Jon laughed in surprise. “So you work for a dentist?”

“Yes.”

“A male dentist.”

“Yes.”

“And he drinks sugary frappuccinos every other day?”

She shrugged. Then, as his words dawned on her, she gasped: “Hold on! You’ve been judging me!”

“Of course I have!”

“Because I’m some basic girl ordering pumpkin lattes and whatnot?”

“Well, yeah.”

“That’s so… _ sexist._”

At her words, Jon flushed. “Well, no, I mean, maybe? I mean… I don’t know.” He mumbled as he stared down at the ground, faking interest in his old shoes.

Daenerys quirked her brows. “Well, Jon, I don’t know what to say. Other than - grande caramel latte with three pumps of mocha, five pumps of caramel, extra shot of espresso, and two packs of sugar.” She paused. “Please.”

* * *

“This one’s for you.”

Daenerys blinked as Jon handed her the reusable coffee cup. She turned it between her fingers, then handed it back. “I’ve not got the money to buy one right now,” she said, although he could tell her eyes were sad.

“No, no,” he spoke in haste, pushing it back into her hands, “it’s from me.”

“From you?” she asked perplexed. “Why?”

“Because I was a sexist asshole?”

Daenerys paused, then closed her hands around the mug as she smiled: “Well, I suppose in that instance, it’d be wrong of me to reject it.”

“In fact, I’ll do you one better,” Jon said, “I’ll get you a drink.”

“Oh, I’m _ not _ giving this to my boss!” Daenerys assured him.

He smiled a little. “I’d hope not. I mean, I’ll give _ you _ a drink - whatever you drink. Frappuccino, latte, espresso-?” He gestured at the menu above, watching her expectantly.

Daenerys narrowed her eyes, her gaze slipping from description to description, before she finally said: “Black americano.”

“No milk, no sugar?”

She shook her head. “And no splenda either. I read an article that it’s actually meant to be bad after all?”

_ I knew it, _ Jon thought satisfied, pouring her an americano, _ I knew she was a black coffee girl. _ He placed the mug back on the counter, but she didn’t take it and leave. Instead, she stood watching him, her eyes ponderous.

Jon cleared his throat. “Anything else I can get you?”

“Well,” she said, “I am actually starting late today, so I have an hour to spare. I’d hope to have my coffee to have in.”

“You know, you can drink those mugs wherever,” Jon assured her, slightly confused.

“Yeah, just - it’s more fun to have in when you’re with someone.”

“Aha?”

Daenerys looked around the empty shop and then back at him, her brows perfectly raised. “Someone,” she repeated, “you know. Someone?”

Jon blinked. Then, his lips parted in an “Ooh.” _ Someone like me, _ he realised, feeling a warmth spread in his chest. He pulled off his apron as he grabbed himself a plastic cup. “Just one second, I’ll get myself a drink,” he said, preparing a frappuccino.

As Daenerys watched him, she smirked: “Now, who’s the basic girl?” causing Jon to blush.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small, cute one for today! For those of you asking about "143: I love you" - next chapter will be up tomorrow! For now, I hope you enjoyed this and the nice artwork by DragonandDirewolf. Thanks for all your support. We really enjoy reading all your comments!


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